The Portents of Hogwarts
by Ieatvampiresforbreakfast
Summary: The Triwizard Tournament is over but Harry's not the only one who's scarred for life: Isobel Chambers is a seer, and had the misfortune of viewing Cedric's death. In addition to dealing with death and school work she has her self confessed clumsiness to battle with and awkward feelings for her Quidditch Captain. Her sixth year might just end up being her last. It's also quite funny
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello mes amigos! (I really have no idea why I said that.) Welcome to my reboot of an old fic that I discontinued last year. there are some minor changes, Isobel is now in her sixth year and this is set during the fifth book.

**This is dedicated to ****Christopher Riddle**** because you made me get off my bum and write it.**

Chapter 1 - Voldermort! Voldermort! Vol-der-mort!:

_A light tore open the darkness. Sickly green illuminating the graveyard, shining off the headstones. The jet of light struck the taller of the two boys straight in the chest. Immediately the consciousness, the life left his grey eyes and he tumbled to the floor._

-xoxox-

Not for the first time this week, I woke up with a damp pillow. Tears had seeped into the soft cotton, leaving darker patches in their wake. For what must have been the fortieth time during the holiday I'd dreamed about the day I watched Cedric Diggory die. As you can imagine, it wasn't the nicest thing to have haunting my dreams. I contemplated getting up, but then thought better of it. My older sister, Margo, would be prancing around as usual, my mother would be anxious about me and would try to get Dad to cheer me up. Demetrius Chamber's dad jokes were more than I could handle so instead I just rolled over onto my front pressed my face down into the pillow.

"Merlin's sake, Iz. Are you _still_ in bed?" Margo's must have been on the landing. I grunted, words were beyond me at that moment.

"Margo, can you come down stairs for a moment dear?" My mum might have phrased it as a question but Margo and I both knew it was an order. With a sigh my sister trudged off. _Peace at last._ I thought and returned to my brooding.

I Imagine that you are wondering how I got a front row seat to one of the biggest tragedies of the year. Well, I have always had this _ability._ Before it has always been useful, good for sneaking around and cheating on tests but it's not that simple. I see random moments from the future, at very random times. My eyes glaze over and people around me often think I'm staring at them, leading to awkwardness. 'Awkward' is a good description of what I am. I'm scared of people, I often forget how to talk or walk when people watch me and my clumsiness is so acute that to 'Iz' means to trip over, according to my roomies.

Sample sentence: As he stepped through the door he caught his foot and Izzed over.

I have shoulder length black hair, unremarkable brown eyes and nothing particularly captivating about any of my features. I'm pretty I guess but not in an attractive, man-magnet sort of way. Not like Cho. Despite our massive differences we are actually best friends. Being the only girls on the quidditch team means that we are very close. Although we're in an strange situation right now, I think she blames me a little for Cedric's death.

I heard footsteps approaching and screwed up my face. A soft tap at the door followed. I stayed quiet but my mum entered anyway. She pointed her wand at the curtains and they violently opened, banishing my cosy monochrome world of darkness.

"I'm asleep! Leave me alone!" I wailed, reaching for my own wand.

"No, sorry dear." Mum said, holding up my birch and unicorn hair wand. "Look, you're back at Hogwarts next week, don't waste your whole holiday in bed." She reproved.

"Wand!" I demanded, finally sitting up in bed.

She sadly shook her head. "No magic until you are downstairs."

"Muuuuummm!" I wined, staring after the woman who called herself my mother.

"_Muuuuumm!_" Margo-Devilspawn imitated from the kitchen.

Angrily and with tears prising their way out of my eyes, I pulled a teal dressing gown over my flannel shorts and "Remembrals'" band T-shirt. I shoved my feet in to comic fluffy slippers with massive, pink, stuffed rabbit heads on the top and made my way downstairs, half wishing I would 'Iz' over and die.

Margo-Kelpiehead was sitting on a stool pulled up to the breakfast bar and was languidly sipping coffee. She was three years older than me. A leggy, auburn haired, electric blue eyed bitch. She'd been blessed with all of the amazing characteristics, I'd got the boring ones. In my mum's youth she had been a model, featuring in a few _Gladrags_ catalogues and _Witch Weekly _issues, great things were expected of her daughters. Margo didn't disappoint and straight after she graduated last year she was recruited by the _Daily Prophet _to write a style and life column. The same newspaper also ran an article entitled 'Like Mother Like Daughter", they only mentioned my name and age. Needless to say, I have a lot to prove.

"Mornin' sleepy head." Margo drawled from behind her spotty mug. I ignored her and opened a cupboard, then another and another. "If you're looking for the pumpkin juice then I'm sorry, I drank it all." she smirked.

I dived at her, knocking her off the stool and causing the coffee to spill all down the front of her pretty light pink robes.

"RIGHT!" Mum shouted. "That is enough! Margo." she pointed up and Margo-Bludgerface presently dissapperated, but not before shooting me a death glare.

In a softer tone she continued. "I know that it's hard, Isobel. Your ability is a double edged sword...I just wish you would accept it." She stretched out her arms, evidently expecting a hug. Anger flamed through me.

"Accept it!? Accept what exactly? That people think I'm weird or accept the fact that for the rest of my life I'm going to have to live with the memory of Cedric dying and the rebirth of Voldermort!?" Her face had lost it's colour and her arms had dropped back to her sides.

"Don't. Don't say the name, Isobel."

"Voldermort! Voldermort, Vol-der-mort! I saw him come back to life so, to be honest, I don't think it matters what I call him!" With that I snatched my wand off the counter and ran away, swiping the tears from my cheeks as I went.

I was technically under-age but I just didn't care, the Ministry would only be able to tell that someone was doing magic at the Chambers' residence not that it was me, the only unqualified witch in the place. I summoned my clothes and shoved them into my trunk haphazardly. Then came my cauldron, with a little rearranging I managed to squeeze it in. My new schoolbooks were next, finally, my pride and joy; the Firebolt, it was only an inanimate object but it really deserved a capital letter.

I sat for a moment on top of my burgeoning trunk. _What was I doing? _I was being insane, that's what. Where could I run off to anyway? I couldn't very well sleep on a bench at King's Cross until tomorrow morning, especially not in my pajamas and dressing gown. From Cho's letters I could tell that she was having a really tough time, looking after her would just make me worse. Charlie was on holiday until five this evening, another six hours in this bloody house would kill me. Veronica and Marrietta were definitely not my favourite people in the world and I didn't trust myself to be alone. This left only one:

Roger Davies.

-xoxox-

So, what do you think?

Please review and follow if you liked it, I am notoriously bad at updating to pleading reviews really help me. Thank you so much for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again! Congratulations to AnnaChase you inspired me to write more! I'm sorry that the formatting has got all messed up, I've had to use - to signal a new paragraph. By the way this is set on the Tuesday before going back to Hogwarts.

Bit of a random title but it came up on my playlist and it sort of fits so...

Chapter 2: Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien.

The rain was pouring by the time the taxi pulled up on Ridley Street, Kensington. Dark grey clouds loomed above me, blotting out the sun. The car used similar charms to those on the Knight Bus to evade traffic, but never the less it had been a long journey from central Hertfordshire to the outskirts of London. I was tired and above all just wished that I could have stayed in bed all day. I sighed, unclipped the seat belt and handed the Cabbie a fistful of galleons and sickles.

"Keep the change." I muttered and got out. Immediately I could feel rain pounding on my head and shoulders. The grey haired old wizard pulled my trunk from the magically enlarged boot of the car and carried it along to the curb for me. I grabbed my owl's cage and followed.

I stood there for a moment, getting soaked through to the skin. My grey hoodie and dark blue jeans were sodden in just a few seconds. I smoothed my wet hair down, gathered all my courage and heaved my trunk towards the door of number 34.

The houses here were lovely, all whitewashed brick with wide bay windows and flat roofs. Roger's house, a large, four storey terrace was magnificent, it even had a wrought iron balcony held up my pristine marble columns. His family _must_ be rich. I knew that his father worked at a publishers, and his mother, I think she was a ministry official of some sort.

I picked up the brass knocker and summoned my strength. Almost immediately the door opened. I looked up, expecting to see the imposing form of my quidditch captain. Instead I was greeted by a house elf. It had small round ears, a strange upturned nose and wide, almost too big, brown eyes.

"Hey." I tried to sound balanced, like I normally saw house elves, but it didn't work, I must have sounded shocked at the least.

"Hello Miss, please come in." said the elf, it was a high pitched voice, but didn't all house elves sound high pitched? I couldn't tell if it was a male or female elf so instead just walked in and politely thanked it.

_What do I do?!_ I wondered as the elf snapped it's fingers and sent my luggage flying up the ornate brass staircase.

"Please make yourself at home." It drowsily turned around and walked to the kitchen. I breathed out, not realising that I'd been holding my breath, and surveyed the room. The floor was parquet with a silver-grey rug placed in the centre of the room, on the opposite side to the stairs was a wide oval mirror. I stood and faced it.

"Better dry yourself off, don't you think?" The mirror chimed in.

"Oh, right. Yeah...Sorry." I stammered and pulled my wand out of my jeans pocket.

"It's only a mirror, you don't have to apologise." came a confident voice from the top of the stairs. I swivelled around and caught sight of Roger, but not before I'd lost my balance and started to fall. I grabbed onto the bannister to stop myself from falling and came up blushing furiously.

"I'll never understand how someone so ungainly on two feet can be graceful on a broom." I turned, rolled my eyes and continued to dry myself off with my wand.

"And I'll never understand how someone with such a massive ego can get airborne." I muttered. The mirror tutted and I caught the word: "Impertinence." Davies flashed me a grin and I gritted my teeth.

"Sorry, Isobel." Davies conceded, I could tell that he wasn't really sorry; he still had that laughter in his eyes as he led me to the spare room.

-xoxox-

"What did Margo do this time?" he asked as I placed the cage on the window frame of the room that would be my home until I went back to Hogwarts in five days time.

"You got my letter then." I stated, trying to avoid the question. Roger would definitely think that I was petty if I revealed that I'd risen to my sister's taunts again.

"Yes, I would have preferred a little more warning though; it's going to be _interesting_ explaining this to my parents." he gave me a sidelong glance as I pulled my schoolbooks from my trunk and set them on the dresser.

"Sorry." I bit my lip. "Speaking of letters, where's Willow?" I felt a little guilty that I hadn't thought of my owl earlier.

"She's down in kitchen, Pip's been looking after her."

"Pip?" I questioned.

"House-Elf." he explained. "Are you hungry? It's nearly two."

"Oh, I was waiting for you to ask." I smiled. "I didn't have any breakfast."

"You were still in bed, weren't you?"

"Well...yes, but that's not the point." I answered hesitantly. He laughed again and my stomach flipped over.

-xoxox-

In a very short time, Pip the House-Elf had whipped us up a veritable feast. A pot of stew with potato, green beans, carrots and the tenderest chicken I'd ever eaten. Followed by a vanilla sponge cake topped with mountains of meringue. To my great shame I'd eaten so much I felt like I would burst.

"So how're you finding the Firebolt then?" I asked, I'd had mine since the start of last year but Roger had only recently bought one.

"Great! It's so intuitive, my only concern is Bradley." I nodded, Bradley was the third chaser on our team. "I mean how are we going to do the Hawkshead formation if he's only on a Nimbus 1500, he won't be able to keep up."

"Hmm." I agreed. Bradley was an odd one, by all accounts. He wasn't known for his intelligence but he had this strange sort of _wisdom._ Like he could tell what you were thinking. His first name was Hephaestus but he hated it and insisted that everyone use his second name instead, it had reached such a point that Hephaestus just sounded _wrong._ It was no secret that he'd been vying for Captaincy for a while.

I was just getting used to sitting at the dining table with Roger, having polite conversation when I heard a sharp tap at the window. We both turned to see a barn owl rapping at the window. A light brown barn owl was perched expectantly the other side of the pane of glass.

"Crap, that's Mum's owl!" I gingerly got up and walked to the window, heart hammering in my chest.

"They knew where you were going right, that you'd be safe?" Roger asked, he'd got to his feet too.

"N...Not exactly." I winced as he breathed out angrily.

"Isobel, you can't keep doing this. People care about you and you just go running off." He sounded _very _pissed off, Roger was obviously still angry about the disappearing act I'd performed at the end of last term. Trying to distract myself I opened the window and Daisy (A rubbish name for an owl) hopped onto my outstretched arm.

"Do you care how people feel when you do that?" I was starting to panic now. My shaking hands fumbled with the parchment scroll tied to the right leg.

"Are you even listening to me?" I finally managed to get the note off Daisy's leg and turned to face my captain. He had got closer and I found him very intimidating, I would have stepped back if I could but the granite counter top was in my way.

"Well?" he asked, blue eyes smouldering.

I was fixed to the spot. A hard lump had formed in my throat and I couldn't form a cohesive sentence. Then I felt the hot liquid searing down my cheeks.

Roger noticed this and put his hands on my shoulders in an attempt to comfort me, but before he could say anything else I had run out of the room at full tilt.

-xoxox-

I felt utterly weak and pathetic. I was lying on the bed, curled tightly into the foetal position, clutching my wand so tight that it hurt. The room smelled clean, slightly floral but clinical, not lived in. It wasn't comforting like my dorm at Hogwarts. _God-damn it! _These were supposed to be my awesome days, when I'm old and grey I'm supposed to look back on these days and laugh, not cry because of all the time I wasted.

"Hey-Look, Isobel, I'm sorry..." I pointed my wand at the door and wispered: "Alohomora." The door made a quiet clicking noise. He caught the hint and came in, closing the door gently behind him.

"I'm not here to apologise." he continued. I raised my eyebrows.

"You just said you were sorry." I sat up, Roger pulled up a chair. He ran a hand through his dark brown, almost black hair and smiled sheepishly at me.

"It's just annoying, I mean, did you realise what a mess Cho was in?" I looked guiltily down at my trainers. "It was bad enough that she lost Cedric, and with you gone too..." he trailed off.

"I can't deal with..._it_ when there's a load of people all around me though, I need quiet to function." I explained, taking my time and talking slowly. "I'm trying to be a good friend but, I think she blames me."

"Are you serious? You think she blames you for what some Deatheater did to Cedric?" His forehead was crumpled in confusion as he studied my face.

"Well, if I'd paid more attention...I've never told anyone, but..." My voice faded to nothing and I couldn't continue.

"It's OK if you don't wan-" I cut in.

"Dumbledore taught me how to leave the visions, I was scared so I did. If I'd stayed, if I'd concentrated I could have made it clearer. I could have made it last. I might have been able to work out where the trophy took them-" It all came gushing out and was followed by copious amounts of tears.

"See, Cho doesn't blame you, your'e projecting what you feel onto her." he gathered me up in a hug. "You blame yourself, which by the way, is stupid."

-xoxox-

That chapter ended up darker than I originally planed, not much humour. I hope you liked it though.

As before, please review, all opinions are welcome, and see you later.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: sorry that there's been a wait, I had two french speaking assessments ):

This chapter is for Christopher Riddle again because he really helped me write it. The formatting might be a bit off again so I apologise in advance.

Chapter 3: Snape's Hair Grease

-xoxox-

The afternoon had been spent writing back to my Mum, explaining where I'd gone and that I had 'just forgotten' that I had been 'invited round' to my friend's house (I didn't feel the need to specify that it was Roger's house.) Then he'd convinced me to send a letter to Cho, insisting that she go to Diagon Alley with me the next day. Davies had buggered off upstairs so at 5:01 precisely I was to be found sitting at the dining table with my Firebolt on the table and broom maintenance kit out.

-xoxox-

I'd been warned but I still jumped when, after the fireplace had roared with flames, Roger's mum stepped out of the dining room fire. She was a tall, willowy woman with fine features and high cheekbones. Resplendent in long navy blue robes which emphasised her height and contrasted with her long straight hair that seemed bronze in colour.  
>I sprang up from my perch on one of the chairs, I'd been polishing my broom, and went around the table.<br>"Hello." she said, a smile curling her lips as she looked at me. She seemed serenely in control, not even surprised by my presence in her dining room.  
>"Er, um...I'm Isobel." <em>Merlin<em>, I sounded so common next to her smooth RP. She paused a moment and placed a large stack of multicoloured papers on the table, she caught sight of my broom and fixed me with her deep blue eyes.  
>"Ah, the chaser, Yes?" I nodded fervently. "Roger's told us all about you."<p>

"Um hm." I confirmed, I must have looked worried because she stepped closer and held out her hand.  
>"Only good things." She reassured. We shook hands.<p>

"I'm Valerie, but Roger seems to prefer it if his friends call me Mrs Davies." she elegantly shrugged her shoulders. Valerie motioned for me to sit down again and I picked up the cloth and continued polishing. After the silence became unbearable I spoke up, it was more of a squeak than actual words.

"So-so which department do you work for?" Mrs Davies had taken her wand out and was sending the papers this way and that, they flew into a variety of colour coded files on the dresser at the side.

"Well, I'm the head of the office for the _International Magical Office of Law_ which is part of the _Department of International Magical Cooperation_. What a mouthful?"

"Oh, you might know my Dad then, Demetrius Chambers, _Department of Magical Games and Sports_, he used to work for the _Trading Standards Body _though." She looked apologetic, my stomach plummeted, _now she must think I'm common._

"No, sorry. DIMC is large though." I looked down again at my broom, pretending to find a misplaced twig to fiddle with. After the papers had dispersed she summoned a quill and scrawled a reply on a sickly pink post-it note.

"Ugh, Umbridge's taste is foul." she muttered, as she held up the little piece of paper for me to see. It had a tiny cat prowling back and forth along the bottom and occasionally stopping to mew loudly at the reader.

"What's that?" I wondered aloud.

"Oh it's nothing important, the Undersecretary has been trying to get me to tweak a few laws. Terribly boring I'm afraid. You know, I swore when I took that job that I wouldn't let it follow me home, and look at me now." She paused for a moment, as if deep in thought.

"Zeus" she called and a large eagle owl swooped in from the kitchen.

"Zeus?" I laughed, thinking that it was a very grandiose, not to mention pretentious, name for an owl, not that it didn't fit.

"That's what you get if you let a nine year old name your owl...speaking of." she looked towards the door. Roger was standing there, mouth slightly open like he had been about to speak but had forgotten what to say.

"Hello Mother." His eyes flicked back and forth between us. "Father's not back then?"

"No, I'd hoped that he would have picked up Bella by now," for my benefit she leaned in. "She's a crup."

"Ah." I nodded remembering what I'd read about in Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them. They are little, intelligent and fiercely protective magical dogs, they also look like jack russel terriers.

Then I started to feel a bit non-lucid, tired wasn't the right word, I was conscious but only just. Fear swelled in my stomach, I quickly stood up, my chair made a horrible screeching noise as it was pushed back.

"Going-up-now." Was all I managed to get out as I staggered out of the room. Well actually 'staggered' is a bit over the top but it illustrates how I felt.

I twisted the doorknob and virtually fell through it. I closed my eyes. This was really not a great time for a vision.

I argued internally for a while but then decided to fight it, I had no idea how long it would last (my longest vision had been a bit over seven minutes) whereas using the techniques I'd been taught by Dumbledore I could be sure that I'd be fine again in a few minutes.

A street materialised in front of my eyes, where the darkness of my eyelids had been. I breathed deeply, focusing on the feeling of the air flowing over my tongue. The longer I spent looking around the more detailed the street got. People, muggles, were walking around, all in suits of drab grey, blue and black. One was smoking, leant up against a lamp post, a woman was clacking along in heels with a phone pressed to her ear.

I took another breath, raised one hand to my neck and grabbed my little silver locket, it had belonged to my grandmother. I ran my thumb over the surface, recalling the pattern of laurel leaves engraved into it. I forced myself to make a mental image of the locket and clung to it like it was a lifeline.

Slowly the scene around me began to fade. The trick was to force yourself to remember that the vision wasn't real, you had to focus on something, waver and the vision would pull you under like the turbulent currents in the ocean. I took a few settling breaths and gingerly opened my eyes.

"Crap." I muttered. In my blind panic I'd managed to walk into completely the wrong room. The walls were a contemporary smoky blue colour although a sizeable amount of the wall was covered in quidditch posters (mostly Appleby Arrows but with a few England posters up too), and a large Ravenclaw banner was strung up over his wardrobe.

My eyes widened when I saw, tucked amongst the collection of Arrows rosettes, a framed photo of a Quidditch team all in blue. I picked it up and gazed down at the little people smiling and waving from inside the picture. Standing at the back was our old captain, Lizzie McDougal, next to her was Roger and either side were James Barbary and Peter Calamy the beaters. Cho and me were at the front, we were so small back then, standing in front of the chasers and beaters. As I watched Roger grabbed the little photographic, second year version of me and picked me up, I squirmed and giggled as he messed up my hair. Roger had always been tall, even as a third year. I remember when I tried out for chaser in September 1990 as a timid little girl. No one thought I was strong enough to pick up a quaffle never mind throw one, but I proved them all wrong.

I held the photograph close to my chest and continued snooping around Roger's room. There was a desk in front of the window, a bed in one corner a wardrobe in the other and next to it stacks and stacks of muggle CDs and some wizarding records all made out of deep purple vinyl. I set the picture back down and picked up a few, the top most was muggle "All Things Must Pass" by a man with long hair and a beard that I presumed was George Harrison from the title, then there was an EP by a magical band "The Malaclaws" and an album of the "Balenescu Quartet", Muggle, I presumed.

I had just picked up the photo again when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Dingbats and gargoyles!" I said under my breath as I physically cringed. _Could I hide in the wardrobe? Jump out of the window? Under the bed?_ I frantically looked around, fell to the floor to look under the bed, heard the doorknob being twisted, sprang up, covered my face in shame and waited.

Roger looked at me, looked away and then looked back again. A perfectly cliche double take, I would have found it funny if I hadn't been so scared.

"Isobel?" he asked, a mix of shock and confusion in his voice.

"UmwellIstartedhavingavisionsoI-" I tried to get it over with quickly but Roger just looked lost.

"Start from the beginning-" I opened my mouth to speak. "Slowly, Isobel, slowly." I nodded, wide eyed.

"I started having a vision so I ran up stairs and I guess I just went into the wrong room. Then I saw this." I held out the photo for his inspection. He dragged a hand through his dark hair and looked down at me, his cheeks were a little redder than usual, he seemed almost _embarrassed. _

I shook the thought away, _Roger, embarrassed_, I'd sooner fly to Venus in a cauldron powered by Snape's hair grease than believe Roger could feel that emotion. He pulled up the chair from his desk and sat down. I stood for a few moments, I couldn't decide whether or not to sit down on the bed, he hadn't invited me to but standing whilst he sat just felt weird.

"I have to admit that was one of the happiest moments of my life. You can sit if you like." He stretched out his hand for the picture and grudgingly I gave it to him. He smiled down at all of the team.

"I really thought we were destined to win that year, you know." Roger muttered and set the photo down behind him on the desk. "And two years ago, when I got Captaincy, I mean we flattened Hufflepuff and outstripped Slytherin by miles." I folded my hands in my lap.

"To be honest I'm glad that we didn't win," He shot me a questioning and slightly angry look. "Oliver would've gone insane, I didn't fancy getting hexed into oblivion by a mentally unstable Keeper, thanks." at this Roger laughed dryly, evidently remembering the quidditch mad Gryffindor who'd left in my fourth year.

"In a weird sort of way I think I miss him." I raised my eyebrows, Roger and Wood had a fierce rivalry, well, all the captains did really, but their personalities clashed quite heavily. In contrast Cedric and Davies had been quite good friends up until the end of last year. "He had a wild sort of fanaticism and enthusiasm, you have to respect that."

"Are you joking? The bastard managed to break two of your ribs in '92!" I exclaimed. He guffawed. "_Men?!"_ I sighed exasperatedly. "One of them punches another and they fall in love with each other." My befuddled expression just made him laugh more.

Suppressing his laughter Roger added "He's signed with Puddlemere, you know."

"I heard." I replied in a withered tone.

"That's the dream." He finally seemed serious again, now he was down right pensive. "This year we **have **to win. Flitwick's owled the quidditch scouts, so we have to be on top form."

"What?!" I gasped. Roger nodded.

"Reps from Portree and the Tornadoes are going to be at our November match."

"Merlin! I didn't know you wanted to get into the League!" I exclaimed having about five different freakouts at once.

"Quidditch is pretty much my life. I don't have much else going on." he gave me another one of those strange sidelong looks.

"Roger, I will do everything I can to help you win the cup." I swore.

"I know." He grinned. "But in the meantime, don't you have your own room to go to?" I smiled sheepishly and left.

-xoxox-

I lay on my own bed, a sheet of parchment on top of my Standard Book of Spells Grade Six (I needed a hard surface to write on). I dragged my quill across the parchment:

_All Things Must Pass - George Harrison_

_Expecto EP - The Malaclaws_

Possessed-Balenescu Qartet

-xoxox-

I highly suggest you check out the Balenescu Quartet-Computer Love and George Harrison's Ballad of Sir Frankie Crisp, two of my favourite pieces of music, anyway as per usual, reviews are very much appreciated and people who follow or favourite will receive my undying love.


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